


Make 'em Pay

by PaulHeymanGirl



Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: M/M, Roman deserves some love, hints of dom Roman, post-Royal Rumble
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-27
Updated: 2015-01-27
Packaged: 2018-03-09 06:03:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3239030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PaulHeymanGirl/pseuds/PaulHeymanGirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Somebody's not happy about how the Royal Rumble ended.  And he intends to do something about it.  But who could it be?</p>
<p>Okay, spoiler, it's totally Dean Ambrose.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Make 'em Pay

**Author's Note:**

> The Rumble fallout has depressed me, so I Ambreigns'd.

Roman let out a deep breath as he made his way back to his locker room. Tonight had not exactly gone as planned.

Yeah, he'd won the Royal Rumble. He was going to headline Wrestlemania. He got to point at the sign.

But the pointing felt like less of an honor when it was met with a wall of "boos" from an audience.

He'd been booed before. The Shield had been hated their first year or so in the WWE. This wasn't anything new. Except that before they'd booed him for blindside attacks and pack beatdowns. Tonight, they'd booed just because he was there. Because he existed.

Rock had hugged him, not just in the ring but backstage. "I still remember the 'Die Rocky Die' signs," he'd said, a reassuring hand on Roman's shoulder. "But what the world is gonna remember is The Great One."

"Yeah," Roman said, trying to sound convincing. Rock pulled him into another hug, the pat to Roman's back a sure sign that he wasn't buying it.

"Proud of you, Ro," he said. "No matter what happens from here. Pain is temporary."

"That always sounds better on the t-shirt," Roman mumbled.

Now, back at his locker room, he was hearing reports of blockades outside the arena. He rubbed at his eyes, careful no to start his nose bleeding again. It was really that bad? People hated him that much for doing what he loved?

He pushed the door open, figuring he wasn't getting out of there anytime soon. So a hot shower was probably...

He stopped when he realized his locker room was occupied.

By a visibly upset Dean Ambrose.

"Those motherfuckers," he was muttering. "Who the fuck do they think..."

"Dean?" Roman asked. "Dean, what the fuck are you doing here? Trainers cleared you already?"

Dean froze and looked up at Roman. "Yeah, I guess they figure if cinderblocks can't crack this thing, nothing can." He mock punched himself in the head a few times. "I missed the end of the match, though. Saw the replay."

"Yeah," Roman shuffled, uncomfortable.

Dean sneered. "I'm gonna make 'em pay, Roman."

"Show and Kane? Yeah, I'm not finished with them either," Roman answered.

"Not those fuckers," Dean said. "I mean, yeah, we'll get to them. I meant that crowd full of assholes who booed you like that."

Roman shook his head. "Dean, it's okay..."

"No, no it's NOT okay," Dean insisted, pacing again. "A year ago they were all ready to suck your dick. They were chanting your damn name. You were the one everyone loved..."

Raising an eyebrow, Roman said "Except for my incredibly jealous teammate?"

"Hey, I own up to it," Dean shrugged. "And I worked through it, didn't I?"

"You did," Roman agreed.

"So, yeah, a year ago, I'd have eaten it up if they'd booed you like that. Felt like it was my victory. But here we are, tonight, with them cheering for me and booing you and it doesn't feel good at all. It hurts. That they don't wanna see how great you are. How amazing you are. That they could just turn on you like that..."

Dean gestured vaguely in the direction of the parking lot. "So I am gonna go out there and give those people a little talk about respect." He took a step towards the door.

Roman reached out, a strong hand grabbing at Dean's upper arm. "Calm down, boy," he said, his voice less doubtful and more authoritative. "You're not going anywhere."

Dean looked from the hand on his arm up to Roman's face, still a few faint traces of blood showing against his skin. "I..."

"Listen," Roman said, pushing Dean up against the wall opposite the door. "Crowds can do whatever they want. They wanna boo me? Let 'em. Because that's not important."

He stroked a few of Dean's unruly curls off of his face. "What's important is that the people who matter are behind me," Roman continued. He leaned his forehead in against Dean's in an echo of what had happened earlier in the ring.

Only this time, he finished by pressing his lips to Dean's, initiating a slow, burning kiss.

Dean relaxed under him, kissing back, his hand resting on Roman's hip. He was making tiny little noises, not quite whimpers, like they were choked back to help hide his need.

Roman broke the kiss, smiling at Dean. "Now come on," he said. "It's gonna be a long time before I get out of here." He nuzzled the top of Dean's head fondly. "And I am not going to let that stop me from celebrating my victory."

Dean leered up at him a little. "Wanna do it under the Wrestlemania sign?"

"No," Roman said.

A short pause.

"Okay. Yes."


End file.
